Falling For Grace. Stella Bagwell
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Honey always caught more flies than vinegar. Trouble was, Jack had almost forgotten how to sweeten his words and still manage to sound sincere. He’d used to be damned good at it, but then, he’d used to want to be a lawyer, too.
“Sorry I was gone so long. But Albert’s mother likes to talk.”
He glanced up to see Grace walking toward him. Quickly he rose to his feet. “Look, Miss Holliday, this whole thing with your students…let’s just forget it. If you’ll be kind enough to let me know when they’ll be around, I’ll try to be gone. That way neither of us will be bothered.”
She searched his face, trying to decide if his olive branch was real. She must have decided he’d passed the test, because after a moment she smiled.
Her teeth were very white against her creamy skin and red lips. A faint dimple dented one of her cheeks and for the first time he noticed there was a tiny freckle just above the top line of her lip. She was perfectly beautiful. If Trent had been involved with her, Jack could certainly see why. Attraction was stirring deep in his gut, making him wonder if he’d gone suddenly crazy. She was pregnant and a good fifteen years or more his junior!
“Please, call me Grace,” she invited. “You’re not one of my violin pupils.”
Clearing his throat, he said, “All right, Grace.”
That he’d conceded to call her by her first name seemed to please her. Her green eyes softened and her lips continued to tilt upward in a provocative smile. “Would you like something to drink. Iced tea? Coffee?”
At the moment he could have used a good shot of Kentucky bourbon, but she didn’t look to be the drinking sort. Actually, if it wasn’t for her pregnant condition, she’d be the perfect sheltered Southern miss.
“It’s hot inside the house,” she went on before he could answer. “But I could bring the drinks out here.”
She sounded almost eager for his company, making the skeptical part of him wonder why. No doubt she had plenty of male friends her own age. Obviously she’d had one in particular.
“There’s no need for you to bother,” he told her. “I just had supper not long ago.”
“Oh, it’s no bother,” she assured him. “You wait here and I’ll be right back.”
Once again Jack took a seat in the lawn chair and as he waited for her to return with the drinks, he made a slow survey of the backyard.
Along with the deep shade offered by the trees, a vine-covered arbor sheltered the brick patio. Potted plants grew in abundance everywhere, lending splashes of bright color to the modest surroundings. From the looks of the house, it needed attention in several places. The paint was particularly weathered and faded from the incessant onslaught of salty sea breeze.
The neglected condition of the house made him wonder what her parents did for a living and why they hadn’t made an effort to do better. But Jack wasn’t going to be too quick to pass judgment on the people. For all he knew, Grace’s parents might be working their butts off to put several more children through high school or college.
Inside the house, Grace momentarily leaned against the kitchen cabinet counter and pressed a paper towel moistened with cold water against her forehead. She was so sick of being hot and tired. So weary of trying to keep putting one foot in front of the other when every inch of her body was screaming to rest.
She didn’t know why in the world she’d invited Jack Barrett to stay for a drink. It wasn’t as if he was a good friend or even a fond acquaintance. But he was her next-door neighbor. And long before he’d died, her grandfather had passed on his Southern upbringing to Grace. Elias would’ve considered it downright rude to not be neighborly and hospitable. Even to a stranger, who wasn’t so friendly himself, she thought grimly.
But she wasn’t going to be too quick to judge Jack Barrett, she promised herself. He might be dealing with a lot of personal problems at the moment. His curt attitude might be hiding a broken heart. He certainly had the look of a man who didn’t have much love in his life. And Grace definitely knew how dark and lonely that could make a person feel.
Only a very short time passed before she reappeared carrying a tray with a tall pitcher and two tumblers filled with crushed ice. As she placed the tray on a small table between them and began to pour the tea, Jack felt a pang of uneasiness, even guilt.
He couldn’t believe she was offering him traditional Southern hospitality after the way he’d talked about her music pupils. But then, she could easily have an ulterior motive for being nice to him, just as he had for wanting to talk to her.
“You shouldn’t have gone to this much trouble. Not for me,” he said, wondering why the hell his conscious had suddenly decided to show its face after all these years.
She handed him one of the glasses, then gestured to the tray. “There’s sugar and lemon, if you like. As for the trouble, I have a motive for keeping you here with a drink.”
Jack’s hand paused in midair as he reached for a lemon wedge. “Oh,” he said guardedly. “What is it?”
“Well, I hope you won’t be offended, but—”
This brought his head up and his gaze connected with hers. A sheepish little smile was on her lips and he feared he was about to learn the true side of Grace Holliday.
“But what?” he pressed.
She shrugged, then let out a sigh. “I guess I might as well not be bashful about it,” she said. “Especially now that I have you here.”
His brows lifted with curiosity, but otherwise he remained quiet. Inside his chest, his heart beat with sluggish dread as he waited for her to continue.
Eventually she spoke. “After you said what you did a while ago about not having family and being here alone, I thought maybe…well, that I might do a little work for you while you’re here.”
Her suggestion jerked him straight up in the chair. Work! Was she crazy?
“Look, Grace, I don’t know what sort of work you have in mind, but I came down here to Biloxi to get out of the office. I only brought one lengthy brief with me and I can manage to type up my own notes.”
She tilted her head back and laughed. Jack was too busy taking in the smooth slender line of her neck and the musical sound slipping past her lips to be insulted by her response.
“I don’t mean legal work! Good Lord, I don’t know a thing about the law. I was talking about cleaning your house. Or maybe doing your cooking or laundry. Any chore of that sort which you might not want to tend to yourself.”
House-cleaning, cooking and laundry, in her condition? It was obscene, as far as Jack was concerned. His feelings must have shown on his face because as she continued to look at him, disappointment fell over her soft features.
“Grace, you obviously have a job with your music pupils. Surely your parents don’t want you taking on more. Especially in your shape.”
Her brows pulled together as a look of total confusion filled her face. “‘My parents’?” she repeated blankly. “Jack, I don’t have any parents. I live here alone.”
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